


Illusion In Me

by bIoodbunny



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: ...sorta, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Monologue, Silent Hill: Origins, mentions of many others characters but they're brief + some of them might not even have tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bIoodbunny/pseuds/bIoodbunny
Summary: "there you go, saying nothing. is my mind, unclear?"Alessa reflects as she wanders around this world of rust, metal grating, and sadness.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Illusion In Me

_Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve._

That was Alessa’s mantra as she wandered aimlessly through this world of metal grating, rust, and sadness. 

She _should’ve_ said something to that man, Travis. But- she was too scared, a fear of a stinging hand or just cold indifference like most of the adults in her life. 

She prayed for a savior, or at least an end, but somehow- deep down in her heart- she felt as though Travis wouldn’t give her either of those. 

She _could’ve_ been a good girl and just left him alone. And yet, she felt as though she had to do something. Was it out of some sort of twisted jealousy? 

Like, why should he be able to grow up and be able to forget, to repress his traumas, instead of having them fester- like an open wound? To _live_ past where Alessa will surely die? 

His father and mother had left him alone at the age of 10. Maybe 10 was much more mature than 7? 

Hell if Alessa knew. She probably wouldn’t live to see that point in her life. 

If she were a smarter girl, she _would’ve_ told somebody. 

She thought back to her old savior, Ms. Gordon. 

The day she just barely managed to muster enough courage (through bubbling tears and mumbled words) to tell the woman what she was going through- 

She disappeared. _Ghost through fog._

Maybe she didn’t care after all. A false prophet, if you will. 

She pauses at the door of her home (was it a home? A home was supposed to make you feel safe and warm. This place made her feel scared and angry.) and the emotions grab ahold. 

She stares up at the sign. 

_“Green Lion Antiques”._

She punches the hard, wooden door. Like a kid trying to stand up to a bully even though they don’t have the heart or the gumption to really try and make it hurt. 

She slumps down, a sob escapes her lips and she holds her arms closer to her. 

She’s _tired_. She can’t sleep, though. 

“I can’t go back. Need to find that girl.” 

She doesn’t understand why that man cares so much. She forces herself to open the door. 

She wants to just go back and forget as she unsteadily goes down the steps, a fear of falling down. 

She pauses again at the second door. A few steps can feel like an entire two-story flight if you carry such weight on your mind. 

She inhales, exhales as she opens the door. She doesn’t let out her pent-up frustration like the first one. There’s not much of a point anymore. 

Her eyes gravitate towards herself, her true body, even though she knows looking at it will make her feel bad again. 

That charred skin that will never be healed, nor caressed by someone who cares. She feels sick. 

She can feel the burning eyes of the cult members on herself, though. It hurts. 

That man, no, that demon Dr. Kauffmann is standing next to her “mother”, looking as full of himself as usual. 

There was a time, a very short time, where she thought he’d be able to help her, too. 

One night, she had snuck into his office. Noone there looked particularly happy to see her as she sped past the nurses and the sickly. 

But they never bothered to stop her, that was the “funny” part. 

His scowl as she tugged onto his suit made it clear he had no intentions of help. 

She doesn’t let herself look at her “mother”, instead, she’ll focus on something else, like a lamp perhaps. 

Or that demon’s cage. That’s something interesting. She always wondering what kind of demon would let itself be trapped in something so small. Her “mother” always told her that it was an evil thing- 

But maybe he was a good guy? She needed more of those in her life. 

She hadn’t noticed that Travis had waltzed in until it was too late. 

She couldn’t really tell what the three- Travis, Kauffmann, her “mother”- were discussing, but from how loud they were yelling (the type of yelling that her mother would use when she was angry with her) that it wasn’t very good. 

Travis is doused with a weird white powder and he slumps over. Alessa feels bad for him (she doesn’t know why). 

The world becomes a blur. 

* * *

Something clicks in her. That weight in her mind has been lifted. 

By who, or what, she doesn’t know. 

She looks down at this child, herself. Then, she looks at Travis. 

He’s sitting in his truck again, but this time it’s day and the air is filled with the scent of heathers and poppies, instead of pitch-black darkness and the scent of blood and smoke. 

He _smiles_ at her. She does a double-take. She hasn’t seen a genuine smile like this in years. 

She waves. It’s only polite. She wonders if he really sees her, if he was smiling at something else. 

She decides it's better for herself to believe the former. 

She wonders what it would be like, in a different life, if he were the one to raise her instead as he drives off. 

He's changed. Just like her. 

Now, there’s a car parked on the side of the road. Was it there before? 

A man who wears a brown jacket and a woman who wears a flowery dress step out. A couple on vacation, perhaps? 

She looks down at “herself” again. She’s decided. She wants “herself” to have a chance at a happy life. 

A loving mama and papa, in a world where everyone’s happy and there’s no fighting nor tears. She doesn’t have to have her could’ves, would’ves, or should'ves.


End file.
